


Right Place, Right Time

by werenotthelosechesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: After Purgatory, Cunnilingus, Dean's Freckles, Dry Humping, F/M, Frottage, Lunch date, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Panty Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Slightly scary Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 13:30:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5006572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werenotthelosechesters/pseuds/werenotthelosechesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're spending a relaxing day hiking when Dean stumbles upon you, fresh out of purgatory. You're the first woman he's encountered since he's come back and he wants to have his way with you. Not that you have any problem with that, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Place, Right Time

You're sitting on a red plaid blanket, leaning against a hollowed log beneath a big oak tree in the 100 mile wilderness in Maine. It's a warm sunny day, but the new found shade and the cool breeze feel good against your skin, drying the slight sheen of sweat that covers your skin from the morning spent hiking across the challenging terrain. Pulling the cold bottle of ice water from your backpack, you look around, admiring the patches of sunlight filtering through the leaves and the way small currents of water trickle over rocks in the small creek nearby. 

This place is so quiet, so beautiful. As you bring the bottle to your lips, you tilt a little too soon and the water spills onto your collar bone and between your breasts, making a wet patch on your white tank top. The chill triggers goose bumps up your arms and on the back of your neck. You're still riding the endorphins from the trek, the muscles in your thighs feeling well used and warm. Water runs down your throat when you finally swallow your first sip, quenching the thirst that had been building since your last break. With a contented sigh, you pull out your tattered journal and pastels to sketch your surroundings. A moment this peaceful needs to be immortalized. 

A short while after you've settled in, you hear footsteps heading your way from behind some trees. It sounds like a solitary hiker with an even paced stride. As someone rounds the bend you look up without moving from your cross-legged position by the log. The first thing you notice is how dirty the hiker looks. His jacket thrown over his shoulder is caked in mud, his jeans are dirty around the ankles and on the knees, and his face is smeared in dirt and blood. His walk is defensive and his face is alert and stern, and a course of fear runs down your spine. 

He walks towards you and you consider how far you could outrun him, but he nods your way and throws you a small smile that doesn't reach the rest of his face. What the hell happened to him? As he makes his way to the creek and crouches down to throw some water against his face, you dig through your bag to find the sweat towel you'd brought with you. Approaching him slowly, you sit down on a rock and offer him the towel when he removes his hands from scrubbing at his face. A moment passes before he lowers the towel and stands up. When he takes a step closer to the rock where you're sitting, a small part of you is tempted to take off running, but mostly your mind goes kind of blank as you see his clean face for the first time. He's incredibly attractive and something about his face, maybe the freckles, makes him more approachable.

"Uh... hey." You smile at him and make eye contact, and he looks uncomfortable as he smiles back, as if he isn't used to the gesture.  
"Are you hungry? I have a sandwich and some trail mix in my bag if you want, I just stopped for lunch." There's an awkward silence as you think maybe it would be wise to ask about the blood on his face before inviting him to eat lunch with you. He looks at you cautiously for a moment, then nods and follows your lead over to the blanket where you both sit down and you take some turkey sandwiches and trail mix out of your bag. You silently thank yourself for packing extra food. 

He unwraps the sandwich you hand him and takes a too-big bite, his cheek comically filled with food as you try to conceal your amused grin. After he swallows he takes a second bite and groans around the mouthful, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. Suddenly, the food isn't the loudest thing calling out to you. Your cheeks heat as you think about the man with the same expression on his face in an entirely different situation. Luckily, he's still distracted and doesn't notice your embarrassment. You snack on a handful of trail mix and he finishes both sandwiches at your insistence. You reach into your bag and pull out your water bottle and hand it to him, ignoring the full one in favor of the one your lips had touched just a few moments earlier. He guzzles the cold liquid like he hasn't had cold water in months, and you watch intently as his adam's apple bobs as he swallows. You cross your legs in a useless attempt to appease the heat between your thighs. 

When he finishes the bottle, he hands it back to you and seems more at ease. You offer him more water, but he shakes his head and smiles at you, a genuine smile this time that makes his eyes sparkle. You can't seem to look away and you both stay like that for a long while. Eventually, he shakes his head and closes his eyes, frowning at himself before speaking up.  
"Thanks for lunch, I uh... needed that. The name's Dean by the way, I didn't mention it earlier." He looks up at you through his eyelashes and you feel a bubble of excitement burst in your stomach and settle in tingles between your legs. His voice is rough and deep, the kind of voice you would want quietly saying filthy things into your ear as he grabs you and-  
"Don't worry about it, you look like you've been to hell and back." He smirks and looks amused, although you're not sure what you said that was funny.

"Yeah, and then some." He chuckles darkly as he says this, and looks away into the trees, tensing up and searching for something in the tree line that isn't there. You decide to tell him your name to divert his attention and he relaxes a bit. As he brings up his hand to run through his hair, you notice a deep gash in his forearm. It's covered in dry blood and dirt so you take the first aid kit out of your bag and tentatively take his hand in yours. His skin is warm and you instantly crave more of it against you. When you look up, he seems guarded and you squeeze his hand to reassure him. 

Wordlessly, you pull his arm and he gets the hint to move into your personal space. You rest his arm on your thigh just below the hem of your shorts and you hear him take a deep, shaky breath. His face is decidedly stoic when you look up and he doesn't move his hand, so you begin cleaning his wound, cradling the back of his hand in yours and rubbing soothing circles with your thumb. He is breathing more heavily now and you can feel how hard your heart is pumping in response.

When the final bandage is applied, you allow yourself to look up and your eyes meet green ones. Dean's pupils are blown wide and he has an urgency in his expression that makes you soak through the fabric of your panties. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans in and presses his lips hard against yours. The kiss is hot and rushed and dizzying. Then it's gone.  
Dean pushes himself away from you and you whimper at the loss of body heat. You stare unashamedly at his chest, his broad shoulders and his biceps that strain against the black material of his t-shirt. When he speaks, his voice is gruff and it makes you want him even more.

"I don't want to pressure you into anything. I just... I haven't been with anyone in such a long time, and you're so... look, I'm sorry if I got the wrong message, I can leave if you want." The look in his eyes is genuine. He's giving you an out if you want it. There is not a single part of you that wants him to leave.

"Don't you dare." It's your only response before you reach out to him and curl your hand into his shirt to pull him towards you for another searing kiss. This time, he isn't holding back. He licks across your bottom lip and you open up to him, welcoming the feeling of his tongue against yours as he tugs at the base of your ponytail to free your hair, letting it cascade around your shoulders. His mouth moves down to your neck, kissing and tasting the skin down to the base of your throat while his fingers drag through your hair against your scalp and you let out a moan, which only increases his resolve.

You move your hands down from his shoulders to his chest, then drag them down his stomach while looking him in the eye. He is incredibly sexy. His lips are swollen and glistening from your attentions, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are filled with animalistic need. You push your hands up his shirt, and he lifts his arms to allow you to take it off and throw it to the side. As you admire the muscles rolling under his skin when he flexes, he reaches around you to unclasp your white bra, and you shrug out of the straps to remove it from under your shirt. He roughly palms your chest through your tank top before you grab it by the hem and throw it over your head. 

You hear him take a sharp intake of breath before he pushes your shoulders down to the blanket and uses one hand to pin your wrists together above your head. His right hand makes quick work of the button on your shorts and he works at tugging them down your legs. As you lie beneath his body in your white cotton panties, gasping at the feeling of his bare chest against yours, he leans down and takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites before sucking hard and letting go. He lets go of your wrists and undoes the fly on his jeans, wiggling out of them until he's above you in navy blue boxer briefs. 

When he presses his body against you, you let out a moan into his neck. His scent is masculine and heady, and when you roll your hips up into him, he moans into your hair. You're both breathing heavily onto each other's skin, the sensation adding to the pleasure that's building between you. He snaps his hips against you and the friction is delicious. You meet each one of his thrusts as he grinds his erection against your sensitive, panty-covered clit. The fabric between you is completely soaked by this point. You can feel him getting closer, he isn't going to last much longer but you're beyond caring. You can tell how much he needs this and you twist your hips more quickly, working towards his orgasm. You want to see him fall apart above you.

You move your hands to his ass and grab the firm flesh, pulling him towards the wet heat of your center as you moan his name into his ear. His muscles tense above you and his face takes on a peaceful expression that you haven't seen on him yet, he is completely lost in the moment and his breath stops as he rides out his orgasm. Then his eyes flash open, and he lets out a deep breath. He looks apologetic as you meet his gaze, and you shake your head with a smile, craning up your head to kiss him gently on the lips.

When you pull back, he has a confident smirk on his lips, and you feel the tension in your lower gut continue to build. He takes his right hand and trails it along the side of your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You lick your bottom lip, then drag it through your teeth. His breath catches and he bends down to leave a scorching kiss on your lips. His hand slides under the waistband of your panties, and you moan when he cups your sex in his hand. When he adds more pressure, you buck your hips up, getting more and more eager for your release.

Dean slips his finger between your folds and groans.

"Fuck. You're so wet for me, aren't you?" His breathing speeds up again, and another wave of arousal moves through your body. His finger finds your clit under your panties, and rubs lightly in small circles. You move your hips in time with his ministrations, practically panting as you feel the tension coil in your abdomen. Just as you're about to let go, he takes his hand away. You let out a frustrated groan and he smirks again. As far as torture goes, you have to admit this is probably the best kind, but it's still torture and you're desperate for him to stop. "Please, Dean...I need to cum."

"So desperate for it, and you haven't even had my mouth yet. I'm pretty good with my tongue, you know." He winks at you then begins to slide down your body. When he captures a nipple in his mouth and circles his tongue over the sensitive nub, you know he's telling the truth. He continues down lower, and uses both hands to yank your panties from under your hips and throw them aside. Within seconds his head is between your legs, nose buried in your curls. When he looks up at you, his eyes are dark again.

"You smell so fucking good. I can't wait to taste you." When he finally lowers his lips to your sex, he places a chaste kiss on your clit and you gasp. When he opens his mouth, he begins to lick everywhere but where you need it the most, and he's slowly making you lose your mind. 

You look down and are overwhelmed by the erotic sight of him bent down between your legs, and he chooses that moment to slowly slide two fingers inside of you, repeatedly curling them upwards to massage your G spot. You feel so wound up, you just need a little push to get over the edge. When he finally puts his lips around your clit and sucks, your whole body tenses, your muscles rhythmically clenching around his fingers and legs spasming on either side of his head, your whole body aching to keep a hold on him. He continues moving his fingers through your orgasm, but looks up at you to witness the elation he has caused you.

When you come down from your high, you're still breathing heavily and Dean crawls up your body to come lie beside you. He props himself up on one elbow and runs the other hand through your hair. You look up and meet his gaze, his green eyes warm and inviting as you lean up to tenderly kiss his lips. You lie in the afterglow for a little while, before getting up and slowly dressing. You look over at Dean demurely, and he can't help the grin that spreads across his features.

"You know, my car's a couple of miles that way. I can give you a ride somewhere if you want." Dean nods his head and folds up the blanket, cleaning up the makeshift campsite and putting things back in your bag before slinging it across his shoulder and motioning for you to lead the way. You smile at yourself as you move in the direction of the road and think about the box of condoms in your glove compartment. Oh yes, you'd give him a ride he'd never forget.

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hesitate to let me know if you find any spelling/grammatical errors. I hope you enjoyed my first story.


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